The Assassin
by livfre
Summary: Bella is an investigative journalist whose eagerness for a good story has put her in a very dangerous position. Wanted dead by the mob and hunted by an (admittedly gorgeous) assassin, she must use her wits if she wants to survive.


Bella hummed tunelessly as she walked home, scratching a little bit at the blonde wig that was beginning to irritate her skin. She didn't really mind though. She loved her job.

As a child she had wanted to be two things when she grew up: a writer, and a detective like Nancy Drew. For Bella, the stars had aligned and she had ended up doing precisely that: investigative journalism.

She was currently in the middle of a huge expose. The story kept getting bigger and bigger. It had started off as a simple piece to put in the paper during a slow news day: the effects of drugs on the homeless.

She had donned a blonde wig and a black dress, and gone to a bar that was regularly visited by members of the mob, hoping to discover the source of the drugs. She sat at the bar. Though she looked like she was just casually stirring her drink, Bella's senses were on high alert. She was watching everything going on around her through the reflections in the mirror behind the bar, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. One table in particular attracted her attention.

Men in suits were sat around a table, with several giggling young women. The men looked very serious though, as did the muscular man standing nearby the table, surveying the room. As she watched in the mirror, one of the men stood up and began walking towards the bar. Towards her. And before she knew it, she was given a drink by a suave man in a suit and invited to join them at their table.

In the weeks since then, Bella had been a regular at the men's table. The man who had initially invited her to join them, Felix, had grown increasingly frustrated at Bella's refusal to take things any further than a light kiss on the cheek. Bella knew that he wouldn't give up yet. He liked a challenge. He would continue to unwittingly let a journalist eavesdrop on their conversation in the hopes of gaining another notch on his bedpost.

The men mainly talked of inconsequential things in the presence of the floozies, but occasionally they would make brief comments about work. Bella's keen ear picked up information in the cryptic partial sentences spoken by the men, which all the other giggling blondes missed. And tonight, out of the corner of her eye, she had seen several young women with tear stained cheeks walking into the bar in single file before being herded into a back room by muscular men in suits. The door slammed shut behind them. Bella had felt a thrill of fear run through her. What had she just seen? Was it possible that the mob were involved in human trafficking? This was no longer just the story that would make her career: she had the chance to save lives.

Stumbling in her high heels brought her back to the present. She swore softly as she just managed to regain her balance and avoid falling onto the sidewalk. _Pay attention Bella, _she chastised herself. It was because of the stupid high heels. Bella did not wear high heels. Ever. But her undercover personality, Natalia, did. Unfortunately, this led to a lot of stumbling around in shoes she wasn't nearly coordinated enough to wear.

Admittedly, she did enjoy the roleplay. It was exciting, and gave her the confidence to do things she would never usually do and to say things she would never usually say. Natalia was confident, self-assured and desirable. Now that it was over, it was back to another night of staying at home and watching Parks and Rec with her cat.

Up ahead, Bella spotted a man standing in front of his car. The bonnet was up, and he was bent over the front of the car, fiddling with the engine. As Bella got closer, she could hear the constant stream of curse words he was uttering.

"Um, do you need some help?" She asked.  
He jumped up, startled and turned to face her. Bella couldn't help but stare. He was gorgeous. He had reddish-brown hair and piercing green eyes. "Oh, hi," he said. "I didn't see you there. I'm fine, my car just broke down." He kicked the tyre angrily.  
"Oh, do you need some tools to fix it? My house is nearby," Bella offered.  
He grinned sheepishly. "No. I wouldn't have a clue how to fix it. I was just hitting random things hoping it would start again."  
Bella laughed. "I know a bit about cars, do you want me to have a look?"  
"Really? Wow, that would be great," he said.  
Bella started to look inside the hood of the car, trying to figure out what the problem could be.  
"So, where did you learn about cars from?"  
"My ex-boyfriend. He loved cars. Unfortunately, he didn't love me." As soon as the words were out of Bella's mouth, she regretted them. She always did have a problem with oversharing. She bent over further, hiding her face from the man so he wouldn't see her blush.  
"Ah," was all the man said.  
Bella spotted the problem. A piece had worked its way loose and popped out of place. She put it back where it was meant to be, twisting it slightly to tighten it. "Okay, see if it works now," she said.  
The man jumped into the car and turned the key. The car roared to life. He smiled and turned it off again, getting out of the car. "Thank you so much," he said sincerely. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come along." He reached for his wallet. "Please, let me repay you."  
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, smiling at him. Secretly, she hoped he would maybe insist on taking her out to dinner to thank her.  
But he just nodded and began to get back in his car.  
"Wait!" Bella said. Inexplicably, she didn't want this man to leave her. She wanted to go with him, wherever he was going. She felt such a strong attraction for him, surely he had to feel it too?  
He stopped and turned to face her, cocking an eyebrow.  
"Where are you going now?" Bella asked.  
He stared at her for several seconds, as if he were debating something in his mind. "Well, before my car broke down I was meant to be meeting a friend at her house, but I got a bit lost. These housing numbers make no sense! They're not in order!" He sounded exasperated as he ran his hand through his hair.

Bella nodded. "It's ridiculous. Even the postman can't understand it. People get the wrong mail all the time. I can help you though, what number are you looking for?"

"Number 452," he replied promptly.

Bella stared at him in shock.

That was her house.


End file.
